on the coming of age of the lord or heir of Sereton Hall, to have a general feasting and merry-making among the tenantry; an ox was roasted whole, and such rural festivities were observed as I dare say you have often heard described, if you have not witnessed them.
When his birthday drew near, it was with great difficulty that the young lord could be persuaded to adhere to the old-fashioned custom; calling it waste, profusion, and using many other words which belong to a miser’s vocabulary.
At last, however, he yielded to his friends’ advice, chiefly, it is very probable, because they represented to him that if he made himself more unpopular than he already was, the people on his estate might find some serious manner of showing their dislike.
The eventful day arrived. A glorious morning dawned, which should have been ushered in by the ringing of bells, but unfortunately there was so much difficulty in finding any one willing to perform this office in honour of the grinding, hard-hearted young landlord, that Charles had nearly finished a somewhat late breakfast before a feeble peal fell on his ear. Soon afterwards he had an interview, by appointment,
with his guardians and trustees, in which they resigned all the papers connected with the estates.
The young miser, however, had taken care long ago to make himself acquainted with the exact state of his finances, so that he had very little to learn, and the business was soon transacted.
How he now rejoiced that he had not yielded to the suggestions of these gentlemen,—who within the last two or three years had thought fit to consult the young lord on such matters,—when they had proposed lowering the rent of a poor farmer, or remitting, it might be, some arrears when crops had failed, or some unforeseen misfortune happened; not yet was the time come for the recollections of such misdeeds to torture his mind with all the writhings of remorse. Not yet, for in the morning of that day he only revelled in thoughts of his vast wealth, and dreams of future aggrandizement.
Presently his mother entered the room, accompanied by his cousin William; they came to offer their congratulations, with, on Mrs. Sidney’s part, a hope that, now her son was really in the possession of enormous wealth,
some impulse of generosity and benevolence would spring up in his heart. Accordingly she it was who took the opportunity of offering a petition: nothing less than that he would spare a certain sum of money for his cousin William’s college expenses.
Poor William! he trembled while he listened, for on the chance of his cousin’s acquiescence rested the probability of his advancement in life, and the means of assisting his brothers and sisters.